


Golden

by ABCharlie



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 07:46:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17382557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABCharlie/pseuds/ABCharlie
Summary: Billy felt angry. An anger that had become so achingly familiar, he sometimes didn’t know where it ended and he began. It made him feel ugly and vile and-So Billy did what had become a habit on nights like this.Or, an evolution of Billy and how Steve helps him cope.





	Golden

_A train coming to a screechy halt_  
_A cigarette sizzling on the hot asphalt_  
  
_A local store after a violent robbery_  
_A fine collection of cracked pottery_  
  
_But when I reach for you with cold hands and you just hold ‘em_  
_Baby, that’s when I feel golden_  
  
~

_A train coming to a screechy halt_

Ever since his mother left, Billy had this restlessness inside of himself. It kept him on his toes, ready to move at any second.

Billy was always moving to stay out of reach. He was afraid, afraid, a freight train. As long as he kept on moving, nobody could ever really hurt him. He would keep on moving until he moved right out of that house that no longer felt like a home without his mom there.

It wasn’t until much later, when met with tender brown eyes, that Billy felt how much he had truly derailed along the way.

~

_A cigarette sizzling on the hot asphalt_

His dad had called him a faggot long before Billy could truly grasp what that meant, but he still felt it burning.

When he got older he learned how to use that burning feeling of shame as a weapon, keeping others at bay. Whenever he felt the fire creeping up his spine it made him feel strong and powerful, invincible.

But by now he knew better. He had gotten to know all about the nature of this duel inside of him and he had learned that he was not the fire but the fuel. And Billy had never really liked thinking about what would happen to him first, the fire consuming him or being stomped out on the kitchen tiles by one of his dad's heavy combat boot.

~

_A local store after a violent robbery_

Billy never really saw himself as a violent person. He had his problems all right, he was ill-tempered and defensive and downright mean sometimes but violent? Violence was for people like Neil who-

People like Neil who Billy resembled all too well sometimes.

That was something he had to come to terms with every time he looked at Steve’s face and saw the aftermath of himself lashing out. He hadn’t mean to lash out- at least not at Steve personally. It was just that sometimes Billy had all this hurt he did not know where to put so he took it out on somebody else. Nothing personal just wrong place, wrong time.

But why did it feel so personal? Why did Billy feel his guts twist every time he glanced at Steve’s face and saw the patches of green and blue?

He figured he felt so bad because every time he looked at Steve he was reminded of the fact that his actions have consequences, as his old man liked to remind him once in a while.

But there was something else there too, the fact that he- Billy- had managed to fuck up the only face in Hawkins that felt familiar. Even though Steve and him were far from on familiar terms with each other before that night, in the back of his head there was this vague concept of him and the great King Steve getting along, maybe even becoming friends.

What a could have, should have, would have been. And oh how he had robbed himself that night.

~

_A fine collection of cracked pottery_

Billy felt as though something inside of him had cracked -it might’ve been a rib or something else entirely- as he drove up to Steve’s house.

He hadn’t known why he did it, only that there was something in the way Steve had looked at him when he had apologized the previous day, like he could see right through his armor. The thought made Billy feel even more on edge, as if Steve could’ve ever seen Billy’s broken insides and not bolt right away…

Billy dragged himself out of the car and onto Steve’s front step where he spent a long time going over his options but since they were pretty limited- it’s not like he had many close friends, or any really, and the last thing he had wanted was to face Neil again so soon after getting kicked around- he decided to ring the bell.

It was the first time Steve ever saw Billy like this, vibrating with nervous energy as though he might chatter if you touched him- Steve wanted to touch him and see what would remain as the carefully constructed façade fell away. Steve wanted to know what was underneath.

~

Billy cursed as he looked in the mirror and gently prodded at his own cheek, where a bruise was starting to form. His eyes roamed his own face for a second. He looked at his own blue eyes, his slightly tanned skin, his curls cascading down his neck. Once he had taken real pride in the way he looked, in the California sunshine with his swimming trunks low on his hips catching the attention of boys and girl alike as he strode down the beach.

However, this was not a warm beach in California but a cramped up room in godforsaken freezing Hawkins. And as he looked in the mirror he felt no pride, but anger.

Not the kind of anger that raged red behind his eyes, where he would lose control all at once but the anger that crept up on him and left him with an itch he just couldn’t seem to scratch. An anger that had become so achingly familiar, Billy sometimes didn’t know where it ended and he began and it made him feel ugly and vile and-

So Billy did what had become a habit on nights like this.

As Steve opened the door, his eyes immediately dropped to the bruise forming on Billy’s cheek. He reached out to gently cup Billy’s face, who immediately leaned into the touch. They stood there just breathing together for a second, before Steve noticed Billy shivering and broke contact to usher him inside.

Once inside they sat together on the couch. As Steve held Billy’s hands, the other boy told him stories about the Californian sun until he could almost imagine it- With the night progressing, they laughed and they talked. And as they started leaning into each other a little more, Steve no longer had to imagine anything anymore, he could see it right in front of him- Billy glowing, golden.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and feedback are greatly appreciated, as well as pointing out any mistakes I might have made!
> 
> The poem is one I wrote myself.


End file.
